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I've had the 60th anniversary of James Dean's death marked in my calendar for a couple of years now but here we are and the day arrived and I almost totally spaced. As expressed in my earlier mood post, I'm a friggin zombie today. But this post isn't about me (okay technically all of the posts here are about me but you know what I mean), it's about 60 years of Dead James Dean and the legend that his too-young demise birthed. Dean is the Baby Bear of Brooding Fifties Movie Stars -- Clift was too sensitive and Brando too rough, but James Dean was jussssst right. Honestly I prefer the other two for their tipping of the scales whichever way, but the legend of Jim endures the strongest all these years later, so...
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1 comment:
Comme un diamant, les multiples facettes de James Dean.
-Beau Mec à Deauville
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